


Chambré

by doinganap



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Angst, Friends With Benefits, M/M, basically a look back on dan and phil, hardcore nostalgia, made my friend caitlyn sad but also happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 07:05:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9061552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doinganap/pseuds/doinganap
Summary: adjective(of red wine) at room temperature.Dan wanted things to be different. But his bed was too hot and he couldn't stop remembering and Phil was in the next bedroom.





	

**Author's Note:**

> so this fic took a long time to write (well only a few hours but it was over a few months) and i'm glad it did because a lot of things happened to dan and phil as of late which are perfect fic material.
> 
> also just a quick shoutout to caitlyn for being a lovely person in general and reading my fic which encouraged me to post it in the first place.

It wasn’t a big deal. **  
**

It was never a big deal. At least that’s what Dan had to convince himself before going to sleep. He wish he stuck glow in the dark stars on his ceiling like Phil had suggested when they first moved to the flat. The blemished drywall stared down at him and it felt a little too empty. The sheets were tangled at his feet. It was a little too hot. There were still cars rushing past his windows with sporadic light tunnels illuminating his room. Dan could convince himself it wasn’t that late.

It was weird when they first started. Dan assumed it was bound to happen. He had sent too many nudes for Phil not to make a move. And they kept at it, even once they had moved in together and seeing each other was every two minutes and not every two weeks.

It had been like letting a mint leaf rest on his tongue. The prolonged freshness lingered in his mouth like something new and exciting but started fading into something leathery and stagnant. Not that he didn’t enjoy it anymore. But he was not as young as he was and he wanted to feel something more. Or at least have Phil feel something more.

Dan turned onto his side. He remembered when he and Phil went to IKEA to get the long dresser stretching his wall. He remembered building it and feeling relieved when it was a lot less difficult than building his bed. He remembered adding the small books and plushies and memories on the top.

He hid it when he had done the apartment tour video, but there was a picture of them from Vegas in a simple black frame that Phil didn’t even question when he saw it for the first time. The picture had a place along with the Muse vinyl they had listened to on repeat the week they moved to London because there had been no wifi and Dan was sure they were going to die. They had to only eat ramen noodles and microwaved dinners that entire first month. The picture had a place next to the box Dan kept of his most important memories.

The box only had a paper soft with folds and round trip tickets from Reading to Manchester. Phil didn’t need to know that.

Writing the book seemed like the obvious next step. Dan had found a website that counted the days between two dates on his 23rd birthday and it said it had been 1,696 days since he had rushed into a crowded Manchester train station. Dan was sure there was no way everything they had done could be whittled down to 1,696 days. But he checked on another website and it said the same thing. He wanted to hold those 1,696 days in his hands. He wanted to know it meant something to himself. To Phil.

Dan wanted to throw his covers off but if he did he would be too cold.

Phil had been hesitant. Somehow Phil always knew what the backlash would be of doing or saying things. Dan felt a little foolish that his impulses sometimes (most times) outweighed his logic and got him into shit he didn’t need. But Phil was always there to break his fall.

The first day had been warmer than expected. The train took longer than Dan wanted it to but he kept tweeting about having fun on the train to come off cool. He knew Phil had him on notifications even if he wouldn’t say so out loud.

Phil knew Dan was delicate before Dan could even fathom the fact. But he didn’t stop because Dan didn’t want him to. Dan was loud and brave and shy and ignoring the future. So when he got off the train he marched steadily up to Phil and only glanced down at the floor once.

They had hugged. Fierce and real and obvious. Dan burrowed his head in the crook of Phil’s neck and didn’t leave until he was sure Phil had felt his lips press ever so slightly into his skin. They both knew.

Dan was pretty sure that was one of the best days of his life. He had kicked the sheets off his feet finally. There were less cars whirring outside. His black, grey, and white checked duvet fell in waves around him and he tried to wrangle them in.

Their first kiss had been bittersweet. The sunset seemed too vibrant and pretty to Dan. Watercolor tendrils of tangerines and fuschias drenched the sky as they went up on the Eye. Dan wished he could blame the kiss on being lightheaded on the trip up but Phil was holding his hand tight and he was too grounded to care. But Dan had always been the one that needed something to remember a moment so he leant into Phil. Lips missed lips and bumped a landing on a stubbled jaw and an apology was tumbling over Dan’s teeth before enthusiasm met enthusiasm.

He knew Phil had dodged it at first but he always knew Phil was the one who chased after it.

Thinking hurt Dan’s heart a bit.

That night was different than Dan ever felt. Phil’s hands were hands he had seen before and they were calloused and velvet and quiet against Dan’s skin. It felt dirty when Phil skidded across Dan’s cheek because they were friends and not together but very much together and Dan wanted more more more more.

Dan gripped the bedsheets instead of grasping Phil’s hand.

The morning was a silent agreement and sunlight. Dan woke up and it was too bright to not have someone next to him. Phil was clattering in the kitchen Dan had neglected to find the location of so he stayed in bed. He was eighteen and it didn’t feel like a mistake.

Dan was sure it was past three in the morning. It was unfair that nothing in his room felt like his anymore. Everything was theirs but Phil wasn’t Dan’s.

It had continued like that. It was days of long happiness and languid movies on the sofa and nothing more than sophomore touches. Then nights neither of them really talked about. Dan didn’t mind at first. He was still fucking other people and he knew Phil was fucking other people too. All they did was tease on Skype. Dan couldn’t honestly bring it up to Phil’s face. He realized when he was at another party that he was sad to be at and a nice boy was eyeing him up that it bothered him.

When Dan asked it had been a, “It’s all just for fun, right?” and a winning smirk that diced Dan’s resolve to actually talk. Not that he had much resolve when it came to Phil.

Dan was surprised when Phil brought up the idea of a tour. The book was only an idea but suddenly there were two new ideas sewn together. Dan couldn’t help but ponder them lovingly. It was encouraging that he wasn’t the only one of the two that wanted to encapsulate their friendship. Except Phil wanted to leave out the rougher parts. So they would.

No one could film at YouTube parties because of them. That was the real reason. Did anyone else have more to lose? Dan didn’t see it as losing something but Phil did at least. Not many people knew what to make of them anyways. They would be best friends until it was past eleven or Dan had more than three drinks in his system - whichever came first.

Dan was glad they didn’t go to the more sketchy parties anymore. He didn’t like when he saw lines to the bathrooms and wisps of smoke and Phil leaving his side for someone else. He liked the blaring speakers looping the same three pop songs and magenta lights flushing people’s faces and professional bartenders that didn’t put too much salt on the rim. He liked the constant flow of YouTubers more famous with more subscribers with more views. He liked knowing Phil cared about appearances. He liked that Phil wouldn’t leave with someone else for the sake of appearances.

Dan and Phil were friends. That was the point. The plan was to be best friends forever. Living together and moulding their lives around each other had been natural. It was like they were both ivy plants entangling themselves together as they climbed marble pillars.

The Halloween gathering smeared the spots Dan had painted onto his face. Phil had been sat on the sink counter when Dan tried to make the spots look even. It was silent in the bathroom, just the two of them breathing around each other.

Dan didn’t remember when he had gotten in between Phil’s thighs or when his hips hit the counter harshly or when the reapplied spots were traced with Phil’s finger tips. He remembered when Phil giggled at the growling noise Dan’s stomach had made and kissed his neck before hopping off the counter and wandering around to get some food. They had ended up alone and three blocks from the party sitting on a curb with a bag of crisps and neon lights touching their backs.

The first night on the tour bus had been difficult with more potholes than Dan thought were possible. The bunk was cramped and he couldn’t fall asleep because he was fairly sure he was going to fall out it. The muted blue curtain glanced his back more than once. He was going to shit himself.

Old habits die hard, and at around one in the morning, Phil walked past the thin hallway of bunks to the cupboard. Dan knew it was him from the sound of his gait. The familiar sounds of a cereal box being opened guiltily drowned out the alien noises of the bus. As Phil walked past again, Dan reached out and grabbed his arm. Old habits die hard.

Writing the book had been a harder task than imagined. There were post-it notes lining their office for months, wall paper to the side their gaming videos didn’t face.

There were a lot of moments Dan found himself editing out in videos. He was either staring too long at a particularly good note on the wall during a gaming video or staring too long at Phil. Of course Phil noticed when he had to edit the videos but somehow it was just common knowledge that Dan didn’t need to be seen by the world like that. He was too open for his own good.

Dan turned into the pillow on his left. He slept on the right side every night. Phil slept on the left. They slept in different rooms.

There was one time Dan thought Phil almost loved him fully. It was after a video that made him wince when watching it back five years later. Dan remembered how he had worn the Wildcats t shirt that he knew was a little too tight.

If Dan deigned to be flirty towards the end of a video it usually meant one thing would lead to another and Dan’s shoulders would end up being pressed into the shitty mattress that Phil almost couldn’t afford.

Being on the tour bus was a lot. It was bumps in the road and Dan getting a fastpass to Phil’s bed every night. This usually meant for clumsy mornings with fumbling hands and tired mouths but it was more comfortable for Dan. Waking up with Phil on his chest made it feel a little lighter.

There were a lot of pictures of Dan. They had to sort through about a ten thousand trying to find the right ones for the picture book they were making. Phil had suggested this one too. Dan convinced himself because otherwise there would be nothing physical to commemorate the biggest thing he had ever done in his life. In their life.

It felt a little bit extraneous to make a book that should just be a photo album for their coffee table but anything to keep Phil happy.

Falling in love with Phil had happened between Skype calls. Dan’s wifi had buzzed out again. Phil called him instead and they just sat and breathed with each other. The invisible line connecting them was braiding itself together in the form of a cellular connection. They hadn’t even talked much. Phil just didn’t want to be alone and Dan was more than willing to comply. If that meant lying on his bed listening to the blurry sounds of Phil’s movements five hours away, that was fine.

There must have been traffic outside because the lights peeking into Dan’s windows were constant.

Dan realized it was a big deal when they went to that awards show. The British Online Creator Awards. He realized it when the sequins of his silver jacket reflected all around the cab they took to the Palladium and Phil’s muted jacket was golden. He realized it when hundreds of cameras limited his physical contact with Phil. He realized it when he and Phil won for best collaboration and he had to be called up to stage and greeted of the biggest smiles Phil Lester could wear. He realized it when Phil shared the best creator award with him. He realized it when Phil said he had spent the majority of 2016 with him. He realized it when they got backstage and Phil was the first one to go in for a hug.

The second day of meeting each other was probably the best. They wouldn’t admit it. But it was nice to be flirty and for Phil to have his hand on Dan’s thigh as they looked through Twitter together. It was nice to have an entire autumn day to themselves. Dan almost whispered, “I love you.”

He probably did at some point.

Dan wanted forever when they left Japan. Hanging out in the highrise hotel room and canceling their plans with Mimei and Duncan and watching _Kill Bill 2_ on Phil’s laptop felt like forever.

Dan giggled when Phil copied after him and took some selfies in between the cherry blossoms. The final outcome sort of took Dan’s breath away because it wasn’t possible for someone’s eyes to be that blue. Phil thought the pictures looked stupid and almost deleted them.

The balcony out of the room didn’t get much use. The last night there, Dan grasped Phil’s wrist and pulled him out on it. It was dark but the sky was practically orange with the light pollution. The skyscraper lights were dazzling. Neon bounced off their skin and it was quiet so far up. The spring air was a nip at Dan’s jaw but he wrapped his arms around himself and tried to stay present. They were doing so much and they only released the book trailer a few weeks before and everything seemed so rushed and uncertain. But Dan was there on a balcony in Japan with Phil where no one knew their names and he was in love.

They stood on the balcony until Phil realized Dan was shivering.

Dan eyed the door. He was only technically ten meters from Phil (or fifteen? He wasn’t good at measuring). There were two doors, two blankets, two thin sleepshirts, and 10 meters separated.

Phil had laughed when he saw people talking about the Halloween baking video. Of course they had planned on acting more open and less PG after the US tour but the reaction had been instantaneous. It was like they hadn’t seen a video like that before. Dan assumed they hadn’t. It was weird that acting completely normal around Phil with a camera on almost started riots.

The last show of the tour was too emotional. Dan was scared. This collection of memories had tied them together for almost three years, binding them into a single force. What would happen after all of it was over?

Dan knew the answer was nothing would change. They would still live together and not date anyone and save the fucking for each other. They would still be best friends. But there was also that sheet of uncertainty covering them. Phil was turning 30 in two months.

Two doors, two blankets, two thin sleepshirts, two months.

It was difficult to fathom how short seven years really was. Dan couldn’t quantify it correctly. It felt like they had lived in the London flat for five years - really four. Four years since hosting the Brits for the first time - really three. Three years since announcing the gaming channel - really two. One year since meeting - really seven.

Phil was in the other room and Dan wasn’t moving and they only had two months and he was going to supernova right in his own goddamn bed.

Dan wanted a dog and larger windows and a flat not above a restaurant that made everything smell like Asian spices and a park he could easily walk to and a quiet street without police sirens painting the streetlights and a room to hang up their memories and achievements and a stable relationship and not just a best friend he fucked.

The bed was too damn hot.

The last show ended in a yellow-walled hotel room. The crew didn’t want to celebrate too much because they already had in the U.K. and then America and then Australia. So Dan ended up in his lonely room and then not so lonely room with Phil.

And they didn’t even do anything.

There was always a motive when Phil came to Dan’s hotel room. It was to get drunk or get off or get Phil’s mind off the world. And that was fine with Dan. They were friends and hotel rooms were meant to be shared when there was mutual need. But they didn’t do anything in the small room three stories above Stockholm. They just sat and basked in the quiet of each other.

Dan woke up tangled in Phil.

His phone read 04:56. Ten meters. That was all, wasn’t it? Or fifteen. The delirium and sleep in Dan’s head made talking to Phil seem a lot more alluring than it would at a reasonable hour. Moments like Japan and Stockholm and Manchester and Youtube parties and times Dan would never share felt like enough to breach ten meters.

Dan’s steps fell softly on Phil’s bedroom floor.

The first thing Dan saw of Phil was the top of his head. They were both so obnoxiously tall it was difficult to miss the other even with the throng of people surrounding them. Dan had glanced at the floor because it was the first time he had ever felt truly safe about a person. And this was a near stranger he had met on the internet. Well, not that much of a stranger anymore. The platform had more than a few gum wads pounded into the ground and a newspaper hastily kicked to the side. Dan had looked up again and there was Phil.

Phil was the first one to reach for the hug. Dan always remembered that part of it.

The top of Phil’s head peaked out from the familiar duvet. Dan hoped his footsteps weren’t too loud. Seeing Phil made this seem like a little bit of a bad idea.

Dan sat on Phil’s wicker bed. They always complained about it when filming videos. It creaked so loudly sometimes. That’s why they used Dan’s bed more often than not. Phil shifted, somehow already knowing Dan was there, and shifted the covers halfheartedly to invite him in.

Where Dan’s bed was hot, Phil’s was warm. Dan gently wrapped his arm around Phil’s waist, careful like he was made of glass. Except Dan was the fragile one. Phil sighed and sleepily pulled Dan closer. It turned out there was one less sleepshirt separating them than Dan had previously imagined.

“Hey, Phil?” The words were rounded at the edges.

Dan was pretty sure Phil was asleep.

“Yeah, Dan?”

“I just…” A yawn. “I just really… I really care about you, alright? Just… Just a lot.”

“I care about you a lot too, Dan.” Phil was whispering but the words felt loud in Dan’s head.

“I love you.”

“And I love you.”

Dan shook his head on Phil’s chest and rubbed his hip. His breathing became shallow and he just wanted to be grounded with Phil. He had been awake too long. Dan gripped Phil’s hand.

“I mean I’m in love with you.” Dan’s voice was softer than clouds. He wanted to sleep. Phil was warm.

“I know.”

“Yeah?” Dan nuzzled impossibly nearer. The blue and green duvet calmed his shoulders.

“Yeah.”

_fin._

**Author's Note:**

> hi i wrote this in three nights over two months. my procrastination skills are lovely. anyways i hope you enjoyed the fic and your heart doesn't ache as much as mine did writing it.


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